LOVE & INFURIATION
by XFilesIBelieve
Summary: Norrington meets an irritating yet beautiful American girl who ends up a stowaway on his ship. It's romance on the high seas!Takes place after COTBP
1. Feeling Sorry

_Just a few notes here:_

_I picture my original characters to be played by specific actors. I picture Hannah Doyle to be played by Amanda Bynes _(She's The Man) _and the character of Lt. Wilson to be played by Jason Isaacs_ (The Patriot)

_Disclaimer: I of course own nothing from Pirates of the Caribbean but it would be cool to at least have a pirate hat!_

**LOVE & INFURIATION**

Chapter 1

Feeling Sorry

Commodore James Norrington sighed and rubbed his temples. He was taking a long walk around the bustling town of Port Royal after hearing news that touched on his heart in a most painful way. His thoughts were on the woman he had loved, Elizabeth, the one that had gotten away and fell for ugh…the blacksmith, Turner. The news was they were being married that very afternoon on top of the same building that he had proposed to her, only a few months ago. How could she? He had really loved her and would have done anything for her but letting her go seemed impossibly hard to accept. He needed something to take his mind off of this news and keep him busy. He looked up from where he had stopped walking and saw a huge and looming white mansion with gate-iron fence surrounding it. Governor Swann's home. True, he was Elizabeth's father, a painful reminder, but perhaps he would have a task for him and the rest of his Royal Navy crew.

INSIDE 

"I would really like to know what's going on in the colonies…ah pardon me, America," Gov. Swann chuckled, "I'm still getting used to that name. I think a lot could be done with the international trading in that country." He studied Norrington's forlorn expression, "And uh…I think you need to get away Commodore. A good trip overseas will do you good; get your mind off of…well you know. I know you'd really rather be fighting but at this time, this is where I need you."

Norrington nodded in agreement, "Of course Sir." He said thinking, _**I would really be much more productive with my work if I was sent elsewhere.**_

"Very well then, it's decided. I'll have you set out for America tomorrow. Make port in Jamestown, there's a lot of trading activity in those waters. I'll provide you with the English Charger for a ship complete with supplies needed for the journey and of course you may take the Royal Navy crew with you."

"Excellent, thank you Governor Swann."

"Oh and Commodore?"

"Yes Sir?"

Gov. Swann sighed, "Get some sun. You look as pale as your wig."

Norrington smiled grimly, and placing his hat atop his white wig stepped out of the Governor's study.

CHAPTER 2

American Girl

Norrington squinted in the brilliant sunshine, putting a hand up to shield his eyes. The town of Jamestown spread out before him bustling with people trading goods, shopping for fresh meats, and strolling along the docks. Laughter and shouting accompanied the background. He stepped off of the ship's ramp, his crew falling in line behind.

"All right men, you know your orders. Meet up with the local tradesmen here and see if we can trade our goods for some corn, oats, and fresh fruit. And don't forget my bloody oranges!" Norrington bellowed out to his men. The crew chuckled at his last request. Norrington had a special affinity for oranges, more like an obsession really. His stomach growled in anticipation of his favorite fruit, which he so rarely got to enjoy.

"I'll be meeting up with the person in charge of these docks and Lieutenant Wilson will be joining me. We'll meet back here in two hours precisely." Norrington turned to his Lieutenant and good friend, "Come along Wilson, let's get this over with," he muttered. He was really rather unhappy that the Governor had placed him on this assignment. He'd much rather be fighting as he'd said or at the very least chasing and hanging pirates. Namely a certain Jack Sparrow. Oh right, lest he forget, _**Captain**_ Jack Sparrow.

Lieutenant Wilson, light brown hair pulled neatly back, and shorter in stature than the Commodore looked up at him, "What's the matter James? Don't want to get involved with the riff-raff?" He asked, his crystal blue eyes twinkling in humor.

Norrington frowned, "No I'd really rather not, who knows what germs these people are carrying. But orders are orders." He started walking up the ramp to a small desk where a large fat man was seated, barely squeezing his legs under the desk. He was generally scruffy and unkempt looking with bits of what looked like last night's dinner in his tangled brown beard.

"Hullo there," the fat man spit, flecks of food flying. "What can I do y'all for?"

Norrington turned his head in disgust, "Oh dear G-"

Lt. Wilson nudged him, "Go on man."

Norrington exhaled, "My name is Commodore Norrington. This is Lieutenant Wilson. We'd like to dock our ship here," he pointed towards the English Charger, "and my men are off doing some local trading here."

The fat man nodded, "Very good then. It'll be two shillings."

Norrington looked over at Wilson, "Go ahead."

Wilson handed the money to the fat man who looked at it greedily and stuffed it in his coin purse sitting on the desk. "My name's Doyle by the way. Tom Doyle and over yonder thar's me daughter." He twisted in his seat and looked behind him in the direction of a huge crowd, "HANNAH!" He roared.

"WHAAAAAT?" A female voice barked back.

Norrington and Wilson grimaced at the sound of such an un-ladylike gesture.

Someone began pushing through the thickening crowd knocking people out of the way like wooden bowling pins. There was a muffled cry as a short elderly white-haired woman was jostled into a large, hairy brute of a man. The old woman shrieked and began pummeling the man with her large oversized bag with brass handles.

"Ow! Geez lady, calm down!" The hairy man cried out.

Norrington peered his head up a bit to see what sort of abomination of a woman was causing all this commotion. Suddenly the crowd parted and a young woman of no more than 20 years burst through. She was quite seemingly attractive with long gleaming brown hair that caught the sunshine in it. She was not of the shortest of stature but she certainly wasn't tall and she was wearing a scruffy looking dress of cream color that had probably once been white. Her skin was smooth like ivory soap. Her eyes were wild and fiery and Norrington saw a flash of amusement cross them as she took in the sight of himself and the Lieutenant in their Royal Navy uniforms.

_Sorry to leave it hanging like that but I want to know what people think, please review, thanks!_


	2. Commie Norrington and Lieutenant Willy

She smirked at the Commodore, "Nice wig." Turning towards her father she lifted her head, "Whadda ya want Pa?"

Norrington raised an eyebrow, appalled at her behavior. Unkempt appearance on the docks and obvious disrespect to her father was one thing, but making fun of a member of the Royal Navy's appearance was quite another.

"Just wanted to introduce ya to these two upstandin' gents from good ol'…" Doyle stopped, "where yous from anyhow?"

"We are members of the British Royal Navy, Mr. Doyle," Norrington replied with an air of snootiness, "but we make port in the Caribbean."

"Ohhhh," Doyle replied impressed. "Well anyhow's dis me daughter, Hannah Doyle. Hannah, dis be Commie Norrington and Lieutenant Willy or something…"

"It's _**Commodore**_ And this is Lieutenant _**Wilson**_," Norrington said tightly.

"Heehee Father, he has a funny accent," Hannah whispered loudly to her father who chuckled back. She looked at the two members of the Royal Navy and fought back another laugh. Their uniforms were so gaudy looking. Navy blue and white fabric outlined with gold trim adorned their coats. That was okay. The obtrusive hats and bright white wig on the one gent however, was just a bit too much. However, despite the wig, the taller one had an air about him. Something powerful stormed in his bright green eyes.

"It's nice to meet your—" Norrington began.

"So what's the Caribbean like?" Hannah interrupted. "Do you see a lot of pirates? Have you gotten any treasure? Do they really make you walk the plank and all that?" She asked excitedly.

Norrington's brows furrowed. Who was this infernal woman? Interrupting, asking him all of these questions. About pirates no less.

Lieutenant Wilson opened his mouth, "Well actually this one we were chasing got away, Jack Spa—" he gasped as Norrington elbowed him sharply in the side.

"Jack…Jack Sparrow? Really?? The famous Capt. Jack Sparrow?" Hannah's eyes lit up like fireworks. "You didn't catch him eh?"

"We _**let**_ him go to be more precise." Norrington said not really wanting to get into it. "We could have easily had him hanged by his pirate ears but we had other…things…to well…to take care of at the time," he said unsure of himself. Why was this Hannah girl getting under his skin so much. He had never met someone like her. He had to get away before he felt the need to brandish his sword on her. "Well we really must be going now back to the ship."

"Ooo! Can I come see? I'd love to see what it—"

"NO." The Commodore said firmly and a flash of hurt crossed Hannah's face. He withdrew slightly, "Well we really just don't have the time to show you around."

"But you said we would spend a relaxing day tomorrow in Jamestown," Lt. Wilson protested looking like a sad child who'd been denied his dessert.

"I LIED." The Commodore tipped his hat at Hannah and her father. "If you'll excuse us. Mr. Doyle, we will be setting sail first thing in the morning."

Mr. Doyle nodded slightly confused while Norrington dragged away his big-mouthed Lieutenant.


	3. What If?

I know people are reading my story, you're out there I know it! Can you guys just please review? It really helps my writing to get some useful criticism, compliments, anything! I love getting feedback. Please just take a few seconds and review, thanks!

CHAPTER 3

WHAT IF?

Hannah watched curiously as the Commodore and his Lieutenant headed back towards their ship. It was a majestical thing, huge white looming masts, firm wood that smelled almost freshly cut even from where she stood, and a gorgeous sculpture of a sea mermaid engraved in the wood of the bow. Goodness how she longed to get off these docks and actually be out on the sea. She only spent so much time working here so she could be next to the ocean and see all of the plentiful ships she could feast her eyes upon. Seafaring life seemed so exciting. Hoisting masts, dealings with pirates and buried treasure, getting to say "arrr" anytime she wanted, she thought chuckling aloud to herself.

Her father looked up at her.

She coughed, "Father,…um, I'm just going to take a quick stroll down the docks. See how many of these anchored ships owe us money," she added knowing he loved to hear that.

"Good," He grunted and bent back over his paperwork.

She started walking in the direction of the Commodore's ship thinking about her interaction with him. He had avoided her questions and acted perturbed when she mentioned Capt. Jack Sparrow. It must have really gotten to him that he had not caught the famous pirate. And the man certainly was a stiff-neck. Guess all Brits were really but he seemed particularly uptight as if something had crawled into his knickers. _And his knickers certainly looked good from the backside._ WHAT? Where did that thought come from? She suddenly realized that she was watching him from the back as he stood at the plank boarding his ship. He turned slightly and the orange sun, which was slowly dipping down softened his strong chiseled features.

Unfortunately, the Commodore had blown her off when she asked to come upon the ship too. How close she had been to seeing the grand thing! Well why didn't she just remedy that situation and secretly go onboard anyway? She could easily sneak on for she had experience sneaking in and out of her father's house constantly. She loved to climb out on their roof and watch the endless stars dot the black sky. And sometimes she would come to the docks very early in the morning before her father, and sit up on the highest point and watch the ships come in. Officially making up her mind she began walking towards the _British Charger_ from the opposite side of where big-wigged Norrington and his men were. She'd have a quick sneak peek and dash off before they set sail early in the morning.

_please please PLEASE review!!!_


	4. Avoiding Discovery

Thanks Meryn for reviewing! I'm glad you like my choice of actors for the fic and that you think I write Norrington well. He's really fun to write as is the character of Hannah and I'm having a great time with this story. I know this chapter is a little on the short side as well but I promise the next one will be longer!

CHAPTER 4

AVOIDING DISCOVERY

Hannah made her way to the side of the ship and found a convenient rope dangling over the side. She grabbed hold of it, made a leap from the dock, and clung to the rope like a monkey clinging to a vine. Good thing she wasn't wearing anything nice she thought as she clung to the side of the sea-sprayed vessel. Seaweed was attaching itself to her dress as she inched upwards. Not that she really owned anything nice or expensive. Her father never spoiled her with any such gift. He was much more interested in blowing their earnings at the local tavern, boozing it up. She finally reached the ledge of the ship and peered over. Empty. Excellent. Everyone must still be gathering goods in town.

Suddenly a noise sparked her attention and she heard a man's voice saying, "Let me go onboard to check…" Hannah heard heavy footsteps clanking against the walkway plank.

She yelped and scuffled across the ship to the first door she came to and quickly ducked inside. She'd just stay put for a few minutes until they were gone. A few minutes passed and she could still hear someone rummaging on the ship for something. She sighed and blew a silky brown lock of hair away from her face. She turned around and realized she had ducked into the galley. Hmm…wise choice. She was feeling quite hungry since she hadn't eaten anything since early this morning. And all she had had was a cold biscuit and some gravy. Something brightly-colored and orange caught her eye on a shelf above her head. She stood on her tiptoes wishing she wasn't wearing her stupid flats but these were the best shoes to work in on the docks. She grasped wildly at the netted bag containing the bright-colored food and finally grasped it. It was a bag of fresh oranges. Her mouth watered at the sight of the juicy fruit. She hadn't had an orange in quite some time; they were a bit more expensive than they could afford. And her father thought the only fruit around worth eating were apples.

She was about to start tearing into one when she heard several voices from the other end of the ship. It sounded like they were heading her way. She grabbed the bag of fruit without thinking and quickly moved forward towards another exit that was at the end of the tight galley.

Hannah burst through the door, narrowly missing the crew coming in through the front of the galley. Looking around she found herself in the cabin area where the majority of the crew must sleep, she figured, judging from the numerous hammocks hanging down. At the end of this room she saw another door and quickly made her way to it.

Turning the knob she stepped inside and found herself in someone's quarters. Commodore Norrington's most likely. The room was simple yet elegant with white-washed walls and carved mahogany furniture. The furniture included a dresser and bed on one side and a bookshelf containing thick volumes of leather-bound works and several scaled ship models on the other. She dropped the bag of oranges on the bed momentarily forgetting her hunger as her curiosity got the best of her. Skimming the books lining the shelf she realized this Norrington fellow was quite the scholar. Books ranged from the philosophical thinking of Socrates and Voltaire, to the plays of Shakespeare and Moliere, to the fictional tales of the sea, and lastly to the Bible. Picking up the last book she dove into it eagerly hoping to read the juicy tales of husband and wife described in Song of Songs. Her church would always skip over this book of the Bible as if it didn't exist. It was just a bit too racy she supposed but she'd always been dying to check it out for herself. A long while passed, the sun dipped down, darkness fell, and Hannah absentmindedly lit the oil lamp that sat on the dresser so that she could continue her reading. She was so enthralled that she failed to realize the ship had begun its course back to sea quite unbeknownst to her.


	5. Where The Bloody Hell Are My Oranges!

CHAPTER 5

WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ARE MY ORANGES?!

A few hours later her stomach rumbled reminding her of the bag she had carelessly tossed on the bed. She peeked out the portal window over the bed and realized it was dark as night. That was a probably a good thing; it would make sneaking off of the ship a bit easier. She grabbed an orange and started hungrily peeling away at the thick skin.

MEANWHILE 

Commodore Norrington realized he was quite hungry. His crew and himself had been so busy stocking up the ship and setting sail back towards Port Royal that he had neglected to eat. He felt anticipation rising as he remembered the bag of oranges they had been able to acquire. He headed to the galley to satisfy his urge for food.

A FEW MOMENTS LATER 

Lieutenant Wilson was quietly giving orders to a young shipmate regarding his cleaning duties when he suddenly stopped in mid-sentence. A loud ruckus was coming from the galley as someone was obviously tossing around pots and pans. This was then followed by:

"WHERE…THE BLOODY HELL…ARE MY ORANGES?!?!"

The Lieutenant cringed at the noise.

The galley doors burst open and Norrington flew out seething, "Lieutenant, HAVE YOU SEEN MY ORANGES?"

"No Commodore I have not," Wilson replied hoping he wasn't going to be blamed anyways.

Norrington's eyes blazed, "Then _get to looking for them_!"

"Of course Sir," Lt. Wilson motioned for the young shipmate who clearly looked frightened at the outburst to follow him on the search.

Norrington was fuming. He had been looking forward to eating his favorite fruit since they had cast off from Port Royal. All day he'd been working hard in the bright hot sun and all he wanted to do was bite into the savory fruit. And now they were bloody missing! Whoever dared take his fruit would pay…quite possibly with his life, he thought bitterly, knowing that might be a bit of an extreme.

"He always gets a little bit testy about his oranges…" he overheard Wilson explaining to the young shipmate.

" I DO NOT!" He growled at them and stomped off to his quarters knowing the crew would do well to alert him once his fruit was uncovered. He shrugged off his Navy coat, loosened his white scarf, and began unbuttoning the top of his dress shirt as he made his way to his room.

NORRINGTON'S QUARTERS 

Hannah bit into the flavorful orange not even noticing the juice dribbling down her chin. She certainly was hungry she realized as she shoved the pieces into her mouth.

The door flew open without warning and Hannah had no time to hide.

The tall handsome Commodore stood in the doorway, halfway undressed staring at her in complete disbelief. The loud-mouth brassy woman from the docks was sitting on his bed, her legs tucked under her, juice trickling down her chin, and the bag of oranges laid out in front of her. She held out her hand with the remains of the orange she had been eating.

"Want some?" She asked not knowing what else to say.

The Commodore's mouth dropped.

A little voice in the back of his mind told him how cunningly attractive she looked with the succulent fruit juice glistening on her mouth. Her thick shining hair had loosened from its ribbon in tendrils around her face. Her dress was hiked up slightly from her position on the bed leaving exposed her bare ankles. That and there was also the fact that she had made it into his quarters and was _in_ _his bed_.

Hannah was not only surprised that she'd been discovered by the Commodore but also by the fact that he was missing the top layers of his clothing, carrying them in his hands. His loose white shirt was all that was remained of his upper clothing and was unbuttoned halfway down revealing his smooth and lightly muscled chest underneath. She felt a warm flush creep into her cheeks.

A moment passed with the tension thick in the air. They both seemed too flabbergasted to speak.

Norrington shook himself free of the magnetism that held him glued to the spot. He would gather himself together before his eyes got ahead of his mind.

"WHAT are you doing here?!" He demanded furiously, his figure towering over her menacingly.

Timidly Hannah spoke, "I wanted to see your ship?" She said with a questioning tone not sure if that was the right thing to say. Oh how did she always get herself into these messes? All she wanted to do was see the ship and now she was getting the ultimate shouting lecture from the beast of the seas.

"YOU are a stowaway!" Norrington bellowed at her, his eyes fiery.

"Well no…not really. I just wanted to sneak onboard really quickly and see your ship and sneak back off really quickly and not be um…" Hannah trailed off mumbling the last few words as she sensed Norrington's anger deepening below his surface.

"I see that you have not come to a certain realization Miss Doyle," The Commodore said icily, "Let me enlighten you then." He came at her abruptly and grabbed her wrist, his grip firm. Hannah drew in a breath at his strength as he shuffled her over to the porthole.

"What you see there is the sea meaning we have left port…some TIME AGO!" He said, his voice rising at the end.

Hannah felt all the blood drain away from her face as it hit her fully.

"Oh…DEAR."

Norrington nodded, "Oh dear indeed. Tell me Miss Doyle, how would you describe yourself now?"

"A stowaway." She muttered quietly. She turned away from the porthole to face him, "But I swear it was completely un-intentional! I never had any plans to _stay_ on your ship, Commodore…sir."

"And to top it all off, you bloody stole my oranges!"

"Oh these are yours? Uh I'm really sorry, I was hungry, I never really had breakfast and I saw them in the galley and I wouldn't have taken them had I known they—"

"ENOUGH!" The Commodore shouted as he slammed his hand on the wall next to Hannah's head. She peered up at him her senses heightened greatly at the nearness of his presence. She could smell the light musky sweat on him from working in the sun all day. His eyes were boring into her. She felt her heartbeat quicken.

Norrington stared down at her his eyes wild. He took a breath, "You're so…" He began, the space between them narrowing.

Hannah met his eyes, searching them. She moved forward, narrowing the gap, their faces inches apart as he gazed down at her, a flickering hunger in his eyes.

"What?" She asked finally.

"_American."_ He spat and backed away from her. He sighed and turned aside, "Now what am I to do with you? It's too late to turn back now."

Hannah stepped forward out of the dream-like trance she had been in. "Please don't make me walk the plank or anything!" She pleaded earnestly.

Norrington heard the desperation in her voice and turned back to face her.

"Miss Doyle we are not barbaric pirates, rather members of the King's Royal Navy."

"Ohhh," Hannah sighed with relief.

"But don't worry, we can still clap you in irons and send you to the brig."

Hannah shrieked, "Please no! I can help out on the ship, I can scrub the decks or..or.." she searched, "I can cook!"

"Hmm," Norrington considered. "I'm sure your cooking would be a step above the slop we're used to on this vessel. Very well then Miss Doyle. You will cook for us until we reach Port Royal where we can send you back home _as quickly as possible_." He murmured under his breath.

"Ohh thank you Commodore!" Hannah rushed up to him and hugged him tightly.

"Ah!" Norrington felt the breath go out of his lungs as Hannah squeezed him tightly. _How good she smelled though._ Waves of oranges drifted up to his nostrils.

She let go quickly and stepped back.

"Ahem, well we certainly will keep you busy. There are quite a few of us to cook for."

"Aye Aye Sir," Hannah giggled and saluted him, "I'm off to the galley."

"Miss Doyle?"

She stopped, "Yes Commodore?"

"Are we forgetting something?" He looked at her inquiringly.

"Oh, right!" She pulled an orange out from under the folds of her dress. She held it in her palm and turned it over.

"I thought we could share one together later." She winked at him and re-pocketed the orange. She bolted out of the room before he could object.

Commodore Norrington's jaw dropped as he watched her leave with one of his most prized possessions. _This was going to be one nightmarishly long voyage…_


	6. Something's Burning Or Cooking Perhaps?

I appreciate the reviews but please guys NO FLAMING. If you have something constructive to input I will greatly receive it (thanks Meryn by the way, I appreciate your input)) but just plain bashing is rude and completely unhelpful.

I'm trying to make my chapters a little longer, bear with me and my A.D.D. )

CHAPTER 6

SOMETHING'S BURNING OR COOKING PERHAPS?

A few days passed as they sailed closer to Port Royal and Norrington found himself able to stand being in the same room with Hannah from time to time. In a way her high-spirited and vivacious nature was almost charming. But then of course she would burn the supper much to his annoyance or be found leaning against the ship railing daydreaming while there were chores to be done. Still she was a good cook when she could pay attention and she did bring a lively atmosphere to the ship. The crew did seem to be happier with a woman onboard; they so rarely got to see one.

One particular night Hannah was busy clearing away the dinner dishes, completely forgetting about the apple pie that was cooking in the oven. She was scrubbing away furiously at a bowl when her nose twitched. Was something burning? Oh drat! Her stupid pie!

_Here we go again_ she thought as she rushed to the stove and yanked the door open.

Wafts of black smoke spewed out of the oven quickly filling up the galley. Hannah waved her hands wildly trying to diminish the smoke so she could see inside to grab the pie out.

Without thinking she shoved her hands inside completely forgetting to use a towel to grab it out. She yelped as it burnt her pointer finger on her right hand. She put the finger to her mouth trying to suck away the pain.

Someone burst into the galley coughing.

"What's going...cough on here??" A voice asked through the smoke.

Hannah waved at the smoke trying to figure out who had just entered.

A tall figure in a white wig stood before her holding a hand over his mouth. It was Norrington, of course. Whenever she was making a fool of herself he was sure to be around. Typical.

"I'm sorry!" She yelled through the fumes. "I didn't mean to –ah!" The pain throbbed in her finger.

Norrington moved forward, the smoke beginning to dissipate. "What's wrong?"

Hannah was slightly taken aback at his concern, "My finger…I sort of burnt it while trying to take out the pie."

"Let me see it."

Hannah clutched her right hand to her chest, "No, no I'll be fi—"

"Please let me see it," Norrington said more gently, "I have much experience in the way of first aid. What sort of Commodore would I be if I didn't?"

"Well, all right," She said hesitantly holding out her blistering finger.

He tenderly held her hand in his for a moment, examining it closely. "I believe we have something for this burn. Give me one moment; you may have your hand back."

He rummaged through the cupboards and pulled out a bottle that contained an oily substance.

"Right, this should do," He picked up her hand again.

"Ah!" Hannah breathed in with a gasp.

His green eyes caught hers, "I'm sorry, I forget to be more gentle with a woman."

Hannah stared back at him. He was talking to her as if he actually respected her and her womanhood. But what was that comment supposed to insinuate exactly?

"I can take pain just fine," She said back stubbornly, "You don't have to be all gentle with me just because I'm a female."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well maybe just this once then."

"Mm hm," he grunted. He placed her hand on the counter as he opened up the bottle of yellow-ish oily substance.

"Carron oil, it's a combination of linseed oil and lime water. Good for burns." He explained noticing her reluctant expression.

"Oh of course…carron oil," She nodded as if she'd heard of it before.

He tipped the bottle into his palm and picked up her hand again, gently massaging the liquid into her fingertip.

"Mm…" she closed her eyes. The sensation felt quite nice. Him holding her hand and softly stroking her finger.

She felt a change in the room. Her eyes quickly snapped open.

Commodore Norrington was staring directly at her. His eyes were green flickers of flame that danced over her face.

She stared back at him, her breath caught in her throat.

He had such a look about him. As if— 

The door to the galley abruptly opened and Lieutenant Wilson barged in.

He stared at the two of them wondering if he had interrupted something as he noticed Commodore Norrington holding Hannah's hand in his own.

"Commodore, your presence is needed on deck. We seem to have gotten a bit off course…" His voice trailed as he watched Norrington and Hannah stare each other down.

Finally the Commodore broke off eye contact and dropped her hand.

"Ahem, right. I'll be there in a moment." He bowed slightly to Hannah, "Miss Doyle, you'll find the necessary dressing for that wound in the same cabinet."

"Thanks," Hannah said breathily.

Norrington began heading towards the door and unexpectedly turned back around.

"We're having some evening entertainment on deck tonight. Please feel free to join us." With that he left quickly, his coat swishing behind him.

Hannah just nodded. Dazedly she pulled out the bandage dressing and began wrapping it around her finger wondering exactly what had just happened.


	7. Skeletons, Spirits, And Rum Oh My

CHAPTER 7

SKELETONS, SPIRITS, & RUM OH MY

Fortunately for Hannah's sake she'd been granted the guest quarters on the ship. Privacy was a wonderful thing especially once she'd realized she wouldn't have to bed down with the other sailors.

Norrington had quietly shown her the room the night she had stowed away on the ship. It certainly wasn't as stately as Norrington's quarters but it was like living in luxury compared to the rest of the crews' sleep area. She'd have to thank him for that later.

She couldn't help but get excited about the evening's entertainment. She knew from talking to some of the crew that several of the members were talented musicians of which there were some violinists, guitarists, and bongo players.

She scrubbed away furiously at her cream-colored dress hoping to get it as clean as possible. For her hair, she attempted an up-do with a twist leaving a few tendrils to hang by her face. She wiped her face clean in the washing basin and took a quick peek in the small mirror she found on top of the oak dresser in her room.

Not bad. Time for some fun.

Lt. Wilson walked up to Norrington who was in charge at the helm.

"Sir, would you like me to take over?"

Norrington looked down at him, "Oh yes of course. Thank you Lieutenant."

Wilson stepped up to the helm, "Tonight should be a good time. The crew could use some uplifting." He looked Norrington in the eyes, "You too."

Norrington looked back at him listlessly, "Hm? Yes I suppose I could. These past few days have been rather stressful due to an unexpected stowaway." He rolled his eyes.

"She's rather interesting though isn't she?"

"Hmph! Interesting or annoying. I'm sill trying to decide which." Norrington said with a huff.

"Nice to look at, at any rate," Lt. Wilson said softly as his gaze drifted towards the door opening on deck.

"What? Nice to…" Norrington stopped short as he saw Hannah coming out on deck looking fresh. Her eyes were shining with excitement and energy seemed to bounce off of her curvaceous figure.

Norrington couldn't help but feel a small smile form at his mouth. She was so full of life. It was infectious really.

Lt. Wilson poked him in the ribs, "Go greet her," he cocked his head in Hannah's direction.

"What? Oh right." Norrington straightened up and walked to where Hannah was standing.

"Good evening Miss Doyle, you look lovely." He bent and took her hand with the injured finger. Ever so gently he brought it to his mouth and kissed it warmly.

"Does it feel any better?" He asked huskily looking down at her.

"That certainly does," Hannah purred. "Oh right, you mean my injury!" Hannah blushed furiously not believing how silly she was acting. "Yes Commodore it certainly does, thank you."

She eyed him in his full outfit, "And might I say, you look pretty dashing yourself."

Norrington looked down at his attire. He had dressed in his Royal Navy deep blue coat with the shining brass buttons, his hat perched elegantly on his head. His shoes were freshly polished as well, gleaming like brown buttons.

He smiled handsomely, "Thank you."

Suddenly music began playing as several crewmembers joined in together for a makeshift band.

"Ohh" Hannah breathed excitedly clapping her hands.

Norrington watched her with a slight smile, "Why don't you dance for us Miss Doyle?"

"What?! No, no I couldn't," Hannah giggled.

Some of the crewmembers were calling out to her.

"C'mon Hannah! Give us an Irish jig!"

Hannah threw her hands in the air, "All right!"

She rushed out to the deck, her feet skipping up in the air as she began dancing. The crew started cheering and began to play louder.

Norrington leaned against the railing, watching her. After a few moments she looked up from her dancing and caught his eyes in hers. She smiled broadly. Clearly she was enjoying herself.

Norrington nodded to her and grinned back. He felt so intrusive watching her every move, but he really just couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

Lt. Wilson spoke then, interrupting his thoughts.

"Why don't you go dance with her?"

"What?? No, no that's all right. I'm content to just watch." He knew deep down that was a lie. He did want to, very much indeed.

"Mm hm," Lt. Wilson muttered not believing him. "You know you've got a thing for her," he said in a low voice.

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing sir." Wilson shook his head. _Bloody stubborn Commodore he was._

A FEW HOURS LATER

The dancing had winded down a while ago and the musicians had begun to get quite tired. The wind was blowing softly over the gentle black waters.

Hannah suddenly had an idea. She was a fabulous storyteller. Her crème de la crème being ghost stories and this seemed like the perfect setting for one.

"How about I tell a ghost story?" She proposed to the crew. Most of them were propped up against the railing standing about lazily.

"Oh that sounds good!"

"Do tell! Haven't heard one in ages!" 

Norrington was just coming out of his quarters where he had stripped off his hat, wig, and jacket in favor of a more laid-back approach given the late hours.

He raised an eyebrow at her suggestion and shouted at Hannah, "Do try to give us a good scare Miss Doyle, we'll see if you can manage!" He had had quite a few swigs of rum throughout the night and was feeling in good spirits.

Hannah looked back at him in faint surprise at his less restricted attire. His long dark hair was pinned in the back giving him a more rugged look.

She grinned mischievously putting Norrington at slight unease.

Oh good heavens. He knew it didn't take much to scare himself, he would get afraid of old English nursery rhymes when he was a child. Scarring really. Grimm Fairy Tales and all that. And now he'd gone and opened up his big mouth.

_Well he was a grown man now. Let her bring on her best scare._

"I call this _The Skeletons' Revenge_," Hannah said lowering her voice to enhance the mood.

The crew gathered around excitedly, several of them taking seats on the deck.

Norrington snorted at the title.

Hannah looked up at him in surprise.

He coughed, "Ahem, sorry. Do continue."

"It was a dark and stormy night with the wind howling like a madwoman banshee…" Hannah began and Norrington leaned forward from where he was standing instantly hooked.

LATER

Hannah walked up to Commodore Norrington who hadn't moved from his leaning spot against the side of the ship.

She smiled up at him, "Did you enjoy the story?"

"Um yes. Yes I did, it was told rather well."

The corner of Hannah's mouth tugged up into a smile, "Scared ya didn't it?"

"WHAT? What are you talking about? I wasn't scared!" Norrington protested.

"Mm hm. I noticed you haven't moved from this spot since I finished."

"I just uh…uh I'm enjoying the view!" He pointed out to the black sea where no stars were shining that night.

Hannah smirked, "I see."

"Besides…" Norrington began turning back around, "…besides, I wasn't scared but you sure scared my crew!"

Hannah looked back at the crewmembers laughing jovially as they began heading to their quarters.

"Yeah, I see _exactly_ what you mean," She rolled her eyes at him.

"Admit it."

"Admit what?"

"Admit that you were scared," Hannah said firmly as she inched towards him backing him against the railing.

Norrington looked down at her uncomfortably.

"I will not," he replied stubbornly.

Hannah poked him in the ribs causing him to jump in surprise. "You…were…SO!" She said between pokes.

"Ah! Would you …ah…stop that?"

By this time Hannah had completely backed Norrington in against the railing leaving him with nowhere to go.

"No…I won't stop…poking…you…until you admit it!" She teased unyieldingly.

Something dark crossed his eyes and he suddenly grabbed her hand that was poking him in the ribs, holding it against his chest.

Hannah was waiting for him to release his grip on her hand when she noticed the look that had come into his eyes.

Hungry.

Suddenly she realized she had stopped breathing and sucked in sharply unable to take her eyes away from his stormy green ones.

He still held her hand strongly against his chest.

Hannah's heart thudded inside her own chest.

_What was happening here?_ _That look in his eyes, I've seen that before. But never with that sort of intensity._

Without warning he leaned down towards her.

Softly his lips brushed against hers causing Hannah to tingle all over.

The kiss was something soft and sweet yet almost yearning.

Hannah couldn't help but let out a small moan.

Norrington took this as a sign to kiss her more passionately pulling her into an embrace against the railing.

Hannah began kissing him back just as hungrily. This time it was his turn to moan.

His lips tasted delicious.

Norrington raked his hands through her chestnut hair causing it to undo from its twist.

Finally he gently pushed her away with his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry Miss Doyle, I didn't mean to—"

"No!" Hannah said quickly. "Don't, don't apologize." She smiled breathlessly up at him, "It was really nice."

"No," he turned away from her suddenly. "I shouldn't have. I'm terribly sorry." He began walking away from her without another look.

Hannah stood watching him leave confusedly.

Ok, what was that all about?? 


End file.
